340 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
August 20. 
| general appearance, imagine all the English breeds pro¬ 
miscuously bred on one establishment for the last fifty or a 
hundred years, and you have as clear an idea as it is 
possible to give of the inmates of a poultry-yard in the Pas- 
| de-Calais. It is likely that the country has been repeatedly 
stocked from England. Some few game fowls look as if 
they had only come over the other day, so pure are they, 
i though combats des cogs are strictly prohibited by the au- 
[ thorities, on the reasonable ground that they stir up strife 
among work-people, and induce them to spend money which 
they cannot afford to lose. The notion of cock-fighting 
amongst gentlemen does not seem to be a supposeable 
hypothesis. But it may be guessed that some hundreds 
of years ago, when our nobles made summer trips across 
the water to break a lance with the Frenchmen, and feast 
with them during such intervals when they did not happen 
to be cutting each other’s throats,—many a page had in 
charge a few bags of cocks, to make sure of victory in one 
field, if it were lost in another. 
The reverse of the fowls, the turkies are very pure, of the 
true black Norfolk breed. If a reimportation were required, 
the Calaisis is the place to supply it. They are abundant 
and cheap, and are much employed to hatch other birds 
besides those of their own species. They also travel to 
England in large numbers at the approach of Christmas. 
The ancient town of Ardres enjoys, from the top of its 
half-ruinous fortifications, a very varied and charming 
prospect. The chalky downs surmounted by the dismantled 
chapel of St. Louis, the forest of Licques, and the forest of 
Guines, of which it is a continuation, embrace the famous 
field of the Cloth of Gold, now a fertile plain; the spot 
where stood Henry VIII’s tent, or rather palace, is at this 
moment beautifully green with wheat. Swelling hills form 
an amphitheatre to the entire south and west. North and 
east is a large tract of marsh, partly belonging to the 
Calaisis, and stretching from St. Omer to the sea, formerly 
the estuary of the Borins Itius, but now silted up, and 
filled with turf and sediment. This tract consists of about 
half water and half dry land; that is to say, man has 
effected a sort of amicable arrangement between the 
elements, and, instead of a state of universal mud, there 
now exist, by virtue of the compromise, ditches, banks, 
canals, roads, ponds, meadows, streams, and garden-ground, 
reed beds and osier thickets. Herein are to be found 
multitudes of ducks, of two kinds,—one the quietest, the 
other the liveliest ducks in the world. The former are 
wooden ducks, stuck on little posts into the ponds, to attract 
the notice of passing wild fowl. The old song says, “ A 
tailor's goose will never fly,” nor swim either, it might have 
added; here are some ducks to match, in one respect of 
incapacity. The latter are the celebrated call ducks, or 
canards do rappel, the most frisky, quacking things con¬ 
ceivable, which now and then, on propitious nights, have 
the pleasure of being tied by the leg amongst their wooden 
brethren, in order to invite strangers to come and be shot 
at, from the subterranean and subaqueous huts which the 
French marksmen put together with reeds and sticks, and 
which might be taken for dens of some beast of the 
country; but the more inartificial they are, the better they 
are found to answer their purpose. Colonel Hawker has 
admirably detailed this process of hut-shooting, and, there¬ 
fore, I shall only observe that the huts are often so close 
together that it might he expected these fortresses would 
blow each other up into the air, or down into the water, 
unless they minded what they were about. But perhaps 
Monsieur A. may send his compliments to Monsieur B. to 
| know if he be about to shoot this evening, in which case he 
will take the liberty of deferring his own sport till the day 
after. Several huts, however, may belong to the same 
chasseur, to be used, not simultaneously, but turn about, as 
wind and weather shall direct. Few other than call ducks 
| are reared ; they are of wild colouring, and mostly very pure 
J and pretty. If the reader have a pond near his house, and 
l wish to drive away some nervous, unpleasant inmate by 
incessant clack, squeakings, and every noise of which a 
duck’s vocal organs are capable, he has only to import a 
couple of family parties from the Calaisis or the Andresis, 
, turn them both into the same piece of water, and in a week 
his work will be done. Both wild and tame ducks are, 
during their seasons, sold here at about fifty sous, or two 
shillings, the couple. Geese are not generally kept; every¬ 
body who can, tries to keep a cow, or a horse, or a donkey, 
or a goat, and the grass-eating birds would be somewhat in 
the way. 
The immense number of fowls that swarm everywhere, 
receive very little attention, and are but rudely accommodated 
with hen-houses, &c.; but they are much under their 
owner’s eye. The fine climate, and long summer which 
they enjoy may be one cause of their thriftiness. Caponising 
is generally practised. 
It will surprise many, to be told that in this country, with¬ 
out hedge-rows, and small, scattered plantations, there is as 
much as is wanted of all game except pheasants ; which are 
absent. The forests on the chalky hills are too dry for 
them, though there is abundant cover; but in spots border¬ 
ing on the marshes they would do well, if preserved. 
Partridges are plentiful, and much cheaper than in England. 
The forests harbour hares and rabbits, which latter also 
frequent the sandy portions of the coast hue. Snipes and 
woodcocks are a matter of course; occasionally there are 
large flocks of wild geese. The sportsman, who cares for 
other than pot luck, will find besides many interesting 
species which he rarely meets with at home. The variety 
of fish is immense; in addition to those usually found in 
still waters, including magnificent carp, which the French 
know how to cook, though we do not (the principal secret 
being to steep them a certain number of hours in a pickle of 
salt and vinegar, and other things), there are, within easy 
reach, trout streams; and, on the other hand, sea fish from 
the Channel and the North Sea. Dunkerque sends 
numerous vessels as far as Iceland, which stay out all 
summer, and return home laden with salt-fish, to be 
distributed during winter and spring throughout the neigh¬ 
bourhood. Last, and least, capital brown shrimps a sou a 
pint. Even during the depth of winter, eggs are scarcely 
half the price they are with us; so that, egg-sauce, and 
shrimp-sauce are seldom beyond reach. 
I have noted as natural phenomena in the Calaisis and 
Andresis—March 31, house martins, though sharp frosts at 
night; April 10, snow; April 20, the nightingale ; April 22, 
cuckoo; April 23, redstart; May 7, turtle dove; May 15, a 
grand flight of cockchafers; May 10, quails calling. The 
two last facts may have occurred earlier. May 17, at night, 
the first thunder-storm of spring. D. 
WILD BEES. 
By H. W. Newman, Esq. 
“ One of iny boyhood’s dearest loves wert thou, 
Melodious rover of the summer bowers ; 
And never can I see, or hear thee now, 
Without a fond remembrance of the hours 
When youth had gardened life for me with flowers. 
“Thou bringest to my mind the white thorn berry, 
The blooming heath, and foxglove of the fells ; 
And strange though it appear, 
Methinks, in every hum of thine, I hear 
A breeze-born tinkling from the sweet blue bells.” 
T. Smiueht. 
HUMBLE BEES. 
Introduction to some new remarks on the “ Bombinalrices." 
Although there have been several publications on this 
branch of natural history, the writer still ventures to submit 
to the public the observations he has made on four species 
of “ Humble Bees.” Having spent the leisure hours of 
four or five summers of his youth in this pursuit, he begs to 
quote the words of a very intelligent writer on the same 
subject, the Rev. W. Kirby, author of the “ Monographia 
Apum Anglia 1 .” “ Much still remains incomplete, and many 
errors will require future correction; an account of any 
genus, perfect and elaborate in all its parts, must be the 
work of him who is versed in the history and economy of 
every individual that belongs to it; so much knowledge with 
respect to every species and variety is not to be expected 
from one man; the naturalist should combine the discoveries 
of others with his own, and concentrate the whole,” Ac., Ac. 
The following pages contain the habits and history oj four 
only (selected from nearly twenty) of the largest species 
that live in communities, and gather honey; they inhabit all 
